Sometimes I feel that I should die,
But I know for me no one will cry.
I want freedom from people here,
As I am tortured 365 days of the year.
People say I am mad,
Yes,I know once you say that.
I make my tears run down my cheeks,
And from face remove those disturbing flicks.
On my little body of 5'3 you will find thousand marks,
They are the souvenir of my mistaken tasks.
I tried to be happy for I was sad,
But people thought I was bad.
Hardly matters what happens to me,
O world! Dear world! later and later everything you will see.
Jul 7, 2017
Jul 7, 2017 at 12:37 PM UTC
Sometimes I feel that I should die,
But I know for me no one will cry.
I want freedom from people here,
As I am tortured 365 days of the year.
People say I am mad,
Yes,I know once you say that.
I make my tears run down my cheeks,
And from face remove those disturbing flicks.
On my little body of 5'3 you will find thousand marks,
They are the souvenir of my mistaken tasks.
I tried to be happy for I was sad,
But people thought I was bad.
Hardly matters what happens to me,
O world! Dear world! later and later everything you will see.
Request permission to use this poem